


Evolution Of The Daleks

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-12 21:26:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7123150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dalek Sec awakes after being shot down by his former comrade. Disorientated, but now human, abandoned in 1930's America, he seeks the Doctor the long way round, living out his years as a human until their paths cross again. Some spoilers for season 5 and hints at other episodes</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rebirth

Manhattan, 1930

The theatre was cold, empty - closed after the attack and never opened again. It was the Depression after all and the owners simply didn't have the money to repair everything destroyed by the Daleks and their human hybrids. When the caretakers had come in the morning after the battle, the bodies of the Dalek human soldiers had sent them screaming. It was this that had jolted the previously lifeless, body on the stage back into consciousness.

Dalek Sec - former Dalek, now something that resembled a Dalek head on a human body. He had betrayed them, he was no Dalek, not now.

Face pressed against the cold lacquered wooden slats that made up the theatres stage, he groaned. The pain in his head, creeping into his chest cavity every time he took in a breath. It was something he wasn't sure he would ever grow used to.

Raising to his knees, he saw a mix of bodies around him. Maybe twenty something humans scattered down the aisles, their weapons dotted around them. Sec turned on his knees, seeing two distinct Dalek shells behind him. His neck was still attached to the weapon of Dalek Jast by a chain, and Dalek Thay was unrecognisable except for a few ashes sat in the travel unit.

Slowly, Sec got to his feet, the chain at his neck clinking.

He reached for Dalek Jast, slipping the chain from his weapon and holding it in one hand.

Looking out onto the destruction before him, knowing he, and the Doctor had been responsible, filled him with an emotion he could not give a name to. But whatever it was, it twisted his human stomach into a knot and put a lump so big in his throat it was hard to swallow.

Where would he go from here? The Doctor was gone, he knew that. And he guessed the Time Lord's previous offer of finding them an empty planet of their own was off the table.

Sec gasped to himself. These strange phrases coming into his head. They must have been what was left of his host. What was his name? Diagoras. That was it. That was who he was. A mix of Dalek Sec and Diagoras.

His previous question pushed itself to the front of his mind again. Where would he go? The first and only of his kind. So undoubtedly not human. He could not go out onto the streets. He would stay here, in this building.

Taking a slow step forwards, the stage creaked, almost as if the building was disagreeing with his decision. He was unwanted and unwelcome at the place he had been responsible for the destruction of.

The laboratory would be better suited to him. It was Dalek made, like he, and it was hidden, clinical. Sec could do something there. He wasn't sure what, but something. But how would he return there? The Doctor had to get there from the laboratory to the theatre somehow.

The sewers.

Again, the answer didn't come from his own thinking. Diagoras's mind was answering once again.

Moving his feet, taking the stairs at the side of the stage, he walked to the foyer of the theatre. It was small, and dark. There was no electric in the building, he couldn't feel the pulse it usually gave out. But then, he felt that hum as a Dalek, now everything was different in his Dalek form.

There was no access to the sewers from here, but looking around, he saw a door.

NO ENTRY, BACKSTAGE STAFF AND PERFORMERS ONLY

The blonde woman that had been at the theatre the previous night with the Doctor, she was a performer in this theatre. She had been down into the sewers too. Sec's mind worked and he went through the door, down a flight of stairs, his legs weak and his breathing coming hard. His body was weak. He made it his primary objective to repair himself once he reached the laboratory.

Making his way through the underbelly of the theatre, room by room, he eventually found a room, filled with strange collections of items. The aisles between the shelves led to a turning, ending in a solid wall.

Frustration. That was the emotion which filled him as he hit the brick wall. Walking towards it, almost needing to place his hands on the wall to make sure it was real, his feet hit something and he fell to his knees. Pain jolted him and he fixed on the floor with his eye, seeing a brass hub.

City Of New York Sanitary Flow Sewer System

This was it. Filled with a new emotion, he gripped the bar across the hub cap and lifted the tunnel open, finding something familiar below. He lowered himself down into the tunnel and clambered down the ladder, jumping down the last few rungs. Memories came back to him and Sec walked, double pace, through the tunnels to the laboratory.

The power source was still active, Dalek technology, almost indestructible. Sec had almost expected the Doctor to have destroyed the laboratory upon his leaving but was glad that he hadn't.

These pitiful human emotions, gladness, pride, fear, exhaustion. They were hard to process, so much to process when they were all so new. Now, in the safety of the laboratory, with the familiar hum of electricity, and the warmth from the machinery, and the lights from the screens flickering over him, Sec allowed himself to drop to the floor, his eye stinging. Lifting a finger to it, he saw a droplet of water and it smelt of something. Sodium chloride. He had seen the Doctor and his companions over the years express this emotion many times. He was crying.

He allowed himself to stay there, the entire day, and maybe even the night, laying on the floor. The tears soon drifting into sleep and it felt so good. So human. But it still didn't resolve where he would go from now, and it only restored some of his energy.

This body was so weak, he thought as he lifted to his feet from the floor. His neck was stiff from where he had slept and his eye felt dry from his crying.

There were no windows in the laboratory, it was too far underground for that, so he had no way to find what time of day it was. He had to head outside, he realised. His body was in need of sustenance, food. It was what was making him feel so weak.

A quick search around the laboratory revealed nothing he deemed edible. He relied on judging what was suitable of being eaten by what smelt good and everything smelt far too clean and aseptic. He would have to head out of the laboratory and find something to eat, but it wasn't going to be easy. If any of those who were with the Doctor the night before recognised him, he would be killed... Again. He wasn't sure how much this body could take. It was part Dalek yes, that, he guessed, was how he survived the blast from Dalek Jast, but it still was reliant on human functionalities. He had to eat, drink, move, breath. It was going to be complicated figuring out all these things on his own but he would have to. After all he and his Cult and Daleks previous had done, no one would want to help him. Even if someone were ignorant to his species and beginnings, purely on sight they would run from him.

He thought hard for many minutes, his hunger and the growling of his human stomach pushing him to think of a solution quickly. Eventually, his thoughts went to the Doctor once again. What had he used? A perception filter!

It was strange how as a full Dalek, he looked down on the Time Lord. Thinking him silly, sentimental and trivial with his companions, and his TARDIS, always putting others before him. But he had seen that the Doctor was a genius. Sec would try to be more like the Doctor. He had observed him so many times before, it was easy to imitate his mannerisms. Sec quickly made his way to one surface, finding something he could attach to the clothing he was wearing... As he reached his hand out for something, a clink of the chain still around his neck reminded him he still needed to remove the collar.

There was so much to do. But he had all the time in the world. Daleks did not age and this was a property that had been transferred to Diagoras when they were spliced. Sec glanced down, seeing a ring on one of Diagoras's - his - fingers. He pulled it off and placed it in the middle of the work station. It was perfect. Now he just had to create the filter. He set to work, finishing the device in a few hours. All the technology could not be contained in the ring but it acted as an anchor and an end for the filter, engulfing his entire body to hide the purple and pink mottled flesh, the twitching tentacles on his head and giving him two eyes. His appearance was again similar to Diagoras, but his eyes were now a shade of cerulean blue that just didn't sit as human.

The actual mechanical part of the filter he contained in a small casing and concealed it in the pocket of his clothing. He would have to carry it with him at all times if he wished to avoid detection and stay human in appearance.

He felt something earlier in the back pocket of his clothing and decided it was time to investigate. He took out a black leather wallet and found some change and notes in. Human currency. He would need it to buy food.

Heading out via the sewer and theatre again, he found his way to the street, glad to find it was daylight outside.

There were plenty of street vendors offering food and again he relied on his nose to figure out what he wanted. He settled on something with meat and bread and handed over the money he had. Turning, taking a bite, his eyes fell in the Empire State Building. The feeling rose in his throat again, turning to a lump. What was this emotion?

He tried to swallow it down with his food, hitting his stomach a few seconds later and easing the pain that had formed.

He had never been out into the city before so he decided, as he ate, to walk around the city, observing the buildings and making mental notes of the landmarks for when he visited next. He eventually found himself at the base of the Empire State Building. A mistake. A worker outside recognised him.

'Mr Diagoras?'

He turned to the man, not much younger than Sec guessed Diagoras was, but looking a lot more ragged and exhausted. Sec saw him observe his ragged suit and altered appearance but otherwise, the man gave off no obvious indications of suspicion.

Unsure what to say, Sec nodded.

'Sir, last nights storm caused a lot of damage to the top of the building. We were up there all day yesterday but it's gonna delay the work by at least another three weeks.'

'That is... Adequate,' Sec replied, aware that his speech patterns were very different from his hosts.

'I'm sorry sir, there's nothing we can do to make it go quicker,' the man explained.

'I said, that is adequate,' Sec repeated. He could feel his stress levels rising and the man growing suspicious.

'Yessir,' the man said, nodding his head and placing his hat back on his head. He turned away and made his way into the building leaving Sec alone.

He would have to do something about the building or it would bring him trouble which he wasn't able to deal with just yet.

Retreat to the laboratory would be best for now, he decided. So, pulling his jacket straight, he made his way back to the theatre, switching off the perception filter once he was safely in the sewer tunnels.

It was then that he sat and thought what to do, what he was really going to do. There were so many things to think of and it hurt his head. But he would come up with a solution. The Doctor had called him the cleverest Dalek in existence, it was time he lived up to that.


	2. The Next Step

Three days had passed. Sec had been human for three days. His perception filter had deceived all who saw him and his trips into the city were becoming more frequent.  
He was, however, running out of money to buy food. But he had a plan, which would take the Empire State Building off his hands and solve his money problem.  
He had bought a new suit, nothing too expensive since he wasn’t sure if his plan would initiate immediately or if he would have to wait. But he needed to convince everyone that he was still Diagoras. Still a ruthless businessman like he was when he worked under the Dalek masters. It was once this attitude that had drawn the Daleks to Diagoras, now, the memories of what he had done under the Cult of Skaro brought that nameless emotion back to Sec.  
Straightening the new suit and re-tying the tie for the third time, convinced he had tied it wrong both times previous, Sec observed himself in the reflection of one of the screens in the laboratory. His new found sense of pride nagged him to get a mirror, but his Dalek side held him back from buying such a sentimental human possession.  
He pulled on an over coat and scarf. Even his harder than human exterior was vulnerable to the cold and he didn’t want to find out if he was now susceptible to human diseases like the common cold.  
Making his way through the tunnels once again, coming out to the theatre, he figured he would have to do something about that in his plan.  
It was funny how a week ago he had been planning and plotting with his followers for war and destruction. Now he was planning for security and his own personal evolution. This time he would do it right. He had spliced himself with a human to gain their survival instinct and that is exactly what he had gotten.  
At the entrance of the first floor plaza of the building, Sec was met by two of Diagoras’s assistants. They made Sec uncomfortable, unsure exactly where their loyalties were and wondering if they would cause him issues with what he was going to do.  
He had arranged a meeting with a group of investors, who would pay him a lot of money to take over the building and replace him. The money would be split between him and the men who had built the place up until now. The investors would bring in a more advanced task force to complete the construction. Sec remembered – Diagoras remembered – that most of the men were from Hooverville. Some of them had served as pig slaved to him and the Cult. He felt he owed them some sort of apology in this all and instead of going into the make shift city and risking detection and causing chaos, he decided this was the best way.  
The elevator in the building had been fixed overnight after the battle and now he stood and waited with the two men as they lifted to Diagoras’s office.  
Once there, Sec strode out, the investors already there and waiting for him.  
‘Gentlemen,’ he began, copying Diagoras’s speech and mannerisms. He was cocky, arrogant, sure of himself and never took no for an answer and never answered any questions put to him.  
‘Mr Diagoras,’ the group of six men greeted.  
‘I won’t keep you long, so let’s get right to the chase. I wish to hand complete control of the construction of the Empire State Building over to your company. I already have a settlement figure in mind, to be paid in full as soon as possible by your managers to myself. The contracts have been drawn up and I have pre-signed. All that is needed is your signatures and she is yours.’  
The words and phrases felt so alien and it all sounded like ramblings. If Diagoras had used such silly words to he and the Cult, he would have been exterminated him far before the final experiment.  
Now he was rambling in his own head. He had something to concentrate on. He saw the looks of excitement, suspicion and fear on the men’s faces but Sec kept a straight face.  
‘Boys,’ he said.  
The two men beside him stepped forwards and placed two sheets of paper on the table that the investors were sat at. The men reached in their pockets for pens and began signing where the other two men instructed.  
‘I expect the money to be on my desk by tomorrow morning,’ Sec ordered. ‘Or there will be consequences,’ he added in a low tone just to add to their fear of him.  
With that, the two men gathered the now signed papers and followed Sec into the lift.  
‘Boss, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but we have families to feed. We can’t afford to be out of work. We’ll be straight into Hooverville.’  
Sec observed the human, seeing the fear and apprehension on his face.  
‘Me too sir My wife is pregnant. Her medical bills need to get paid.’  
‘And if you don’t mind me asking sir, what’s with the change of heart?’  
He looked between the two men, unsure how to answer the later question. The first, however, was easy. ‘You and all the men who have assisted in the building of the Empire State Building will be financially rewarded for your assistance. There is plenty of money to serve you all for the next decade of so.’  
The men’s eyes widened at each other, silent “wows” passing their lips.  
‘Thank you sir, that’s very generous Mr Diagoras sir.’  
Sec felt the muscles at the corners of his lips tighten at this display of gratitude. Silly humans, and silly he for showing and feeling such weak human emotions.  
They were on the ground floor now – first floor. That was the Americanism. Pressing the button on the elevator to hold the doors shut, Sec turned to the men once more.  
‘I must ask one more favour of you.’  
‘Anything sir,’ the men chorused.  
‘The little theatre three blocks east of here,’ he began.  
‘Yeh, the one with that blonde girl, uh, what was her name? Tallulah!’ one of the men mused.  
So that was her name. Her companion, Laszlo, he had been changed into a pig slave but the process had been incomplete. Sec assumed he would be dead by now. That was why the Doctor had asked about them.  
There was that feeling again. A knotting in his stomach.  
‘I, want you to find the managers of the theatre, and make them and offer they cannot refuse.’  
‘You want to buy the theatre?’  
‘That, is what I said. It is imperative that I have it in my control,’ Sec explained, his voice grating just a little.  
‘We’re on it sir. It will be yours by the end of the week.’  
‘I will need someone to clean it for me also. There was a… incident.’  
The men nodded, understanding. They had gotten used to it with Diagoras when he worked under the Dalek masters.  
The lift doors began to open, Sec unable to hold them anymore. ‘One more thing.’  
The men paused. ‘Yes sir?’  
‘The girl, Tallulah, find where she lived and pass her address to me.’  
Another suspicious glance passed between the men.  
‘Is there something going on between you two?’ one of the men dared ask.  
Sec frowned, unsure of the phrase.  
‘No,’ he replied, guessing it was the safest response. ‘Once you have done these things for me gentlemen, you are relieved of your duties.’  
‘Thank you sir.’  
Sec nodded his head and exited the building, leaving the men a little baffled at their boss’s change of heart.  
Sec didn’t care. It was suspicious, but he couldn’t continue overseeing the building of such a great and historical landmark. All that mattered was it was built. He could not alter history and cease its building. Besides, it was infrastructures like this that made the human race great.  
Sec returned to the theatre, ignoring the smell of the bodies, slowly decomposing in the main theatre. At least when their enemies had been exterminated, there had been no mess like this after. Sec wondered what Dalek Caan had used to terminated the entire army so quickly? Some form of genetic manipulation? If the soldiers had still been based on Sec’s DNA, then there would have been no chance of his survival, but since Caan had overridden the gene feed and made them full Dalek, it wasn’t a problem.  
Caan.  
Sec thought of him as he entered the laboratory, staring at where he had Caan had once been stationed when they were designated controller of the new hybrid army. What had happened to him? Had the Doctor exterminated him? No, that wasn’t his style. No matter how much the Doctor despised an enemy, he would never destroy them.  
Caan would have escaped before the Doctor could have laid a finger or a sonic screwdriver on him.  
Emergency Temporal Shift – it was their final resort, in case of impending annihilation, if there was no other way out whatsoever. But as the Doctor had guessed when he first found them in the laboratory, it burned up a lot of energy and rendered the Dalek defenceless for a good while after. He, Jast, Thay and Caan had pressed six months before they could fire their weapons. It was why the pig slaves had been given teeth. If the Daleks could not defend themselves, someone would have to do it for them. The pig slaves had been his idea. The Cult had built computers to use and downloaded all data they had acquired about Earth onto the systems. Earth technology was so primitive, and not just because it was 1930.  
A scan through the data had found pigs to be perfect for what the Daleks needed. They were usually docile, but spliced with human and just a slight tinge of Dalek DNA, they were the perfect obedient slaves. Plus some slightly altered teeth and then they became the perfect body guards for the Daleks.  
Sec could do with something like that again now, he thought, making his way to one of the computers. He placed a hand onto one of the glowing blue orbs and it sprang to life, bringing up the file on how to create the pig slaves.  
He thought for a while, contemplating on the easiest way to create something like them again. He couldn’t steal anymore humans. His body was vulnerable to attack. The pig slaves had kidnapped people from the sewers and slaughtered any who resisted. Sec had no weapons and he doubted his physical form could take on a human via hand to hand combat.  
Morality. Humanity. It would be ethically wrong to steal a human for his own use and alter them. He was not about them anymore. He was a part of the human race. Maybe not a full human but still part human. He would adhere to their rules and laws, written or otherwise.  
This sense of morality drove him to wipe that data on the pig slaves. If the worst happened and someone were to stumble upon the laboratory, he would not risk allowing them access to such information as well as the means and equipment to do such a thing.  
The day was still young. It must have been about midday and again, Sec’s human stomach drove him to leave the safety of the laboratory. Humans had not yet figured convenient ways of cooling food, and he had a few Bunsen burners to boil water for some forms of food but other than that, he was unable to store food for longer than a day or two. Not that he had tried to yet. He was reluctant to set up too much of a home base in this place for fear of detection and confrontation.  
He had had it written discreetly into the contract that the lowest level – where the laboratory was situated – was to remain in his possession and was off limits to any future owners of the building also.  
The fact that there was no longer an elevator into the laboratory also helped. He had disabled it the day after he found himself back here.  
The only entrance to the laboratory was via the sewers and from how long they had previously spent down here, he knew there was no real activity from sewer workers. He was safe, that was the main thing.


	3. Forwards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse the childlike and basic flow of this prose. It is half way between a trail of thought from Sec's point of view and half way in the form of imitating the basic speech pattern of someone who has only just learnt to speak in the sense of Sec, unaided by his travel unit systems.

A few weeks passed and Sec formed a daily routine. He would rise with the sun each morning - although with the lack of windows he was unsure how he was able to fall into this habit. Then, he would head out into the city for a few hours until the mid afternoon, eating food from the same vendor at the same time. The owner of the stall had now started making his order ready for him to collect and had allowed him to pay the next day once when he had been stupid enough to forget his wallet.

The city was being kind to him. Not that he deserved it. But he guessed acting fully human was an advantage to him and meant the humans felt less hostile towards him.

He followed his usual route around the city and found himself at a dead end. But that wasn't possible.

'What's going on?' he asked a worker milling about in the vicinity of the works.

'A new road is being built to keep up with the volume of motorised vehicles coming down this way.'

Cars. Oh how this world had left to go. And he would watch and witness it grow the long way round.

'All pedestrian access is being re-routed through Central Park, just follow the signs and it should only add five minutes onto your journey, sir.'

'Central Park?' Sec asked, the name seeming familiar to him.

'That's the one sir,' the worker replied. Then, leaning closer into Sec, he added. 'Although if I were you, I'd watch my wallet around there. That Hooverville has gotten rougher and rougher over the past month.'

Central Park. Hooverville. No. He would be recognised, detected. They would all know the fate of Diagoras and to see someone who was meant to be deceased walking around in broad daylight…

'Sir, I must ask you to move along. We need to get our machine through.'

'Yes,' Sec murmured, following the rest of the small crowd into the park. Weaving down pathways and through avenues of trees, Sec's hopes grew as he neared the outer circle of the park. Maybe it wasn't going to go via Hooverville.

A final turn as instructed by a city sign, and there it stood in front of him. Apart from running into Dalek Caan again, this was Sec's biggest fear.

He pulled his over coat collar up over his cheeks and tugged down the brim of his hat, hoping to disguise himself as he continued walking along the line of tents, lit fires, encampment.

Quickening his pace, Sec couldn't help but realise the truly squalid conditions of the place. He had found it inconvenient several times in the past weeks living between the laboratory and the theatre - although now the theatre was legally his, he had access to a small kitchen which he had learned to use quickly.

However, the make shift town was far worse than that. It looked wet, the constantly decreasing temperature bringing more and more rain, and soon, snow.

He had to do something. That new found sense of humanity was kicking in again. But how could he help? He had already given the men that used to work for Diagoras money. But it wasn't enough. These people needed housing, food, security, health care.

Looking around, he saw so much wrong. The people living in Hooverville were so pale, their clothing ragged. The children were so small.

'Something we can help you with?' a man yelled at him from a doorway of a tent.

Sec had been staring, he realised. That was rude. He shook his head.

'Then get out of here. We're sick of you businessmen staring at us like some circus act.'

'Tommy!'

It was a woman's voice and Sec watched as a young woman pushed past the man out of the tent, smacking him around the back of his head. She smiled sympathetically at Sec, frowning a little too.

'Sorry about my brother, mister. My parents died before they could beat any manners into him,' she told Sec. She then turned back to the young man. 'Solomon hasn't even been cold for three months and this place is falling into pieces.'

Her accent wasn't American. She sounded like the Doctor and his companions. English.

When Sec didn't move, the woman ushered her brother inside and she approached Sec.

'He is right you know though. It's not polite to stare at those with less than you. No matter what amount of money you have or where you come from.'

Sec swallowed. 'I'm sorry,' he murmured – the word sounding so strange on his lips. Daleks never apologised.

'What are you doing here? Don't you have a home and a family you should be getting back to? A nice warm dinner?'

'No,' he replied, not sure why he was taking much time for this human.

She was plain, as humans came. Fair skin, yellow-ish hair. Blonde, that was the correct term, not too tall – not taller than he at least.

'What, is your name?' Sec asked the woman.

She looked visibly taken aback. 'Christine,' she replied. 'And what about you, sir?'

He faltered. He had been so used to being known as Diagoras. But that was to those who knew the previous owner of this body. This woman was unaware. She didn't know him.

'Sec,' he said eventually.

'Haven't heard that one before. You're not from around here then I guess?'

He could feel the corners of his lips tighten again and he allowed himself to smile. 'No, not at all.'

'Well, Sec, welcome to Hooverville, the place a man – or woman – goes when they have nothing left,' Christine told him with a smile of her own.

'You said your family, they died?'

Christine nodded. 'Yes, a long time ago. I raised Tommy by myself.'

Something twisted in Sec's stomach and he felt the sting of moister in his eyes. He felt sorry for this human, for all the humans here in Hooverville. Christine would help him, he decided, she would find what the people of Hooverville wanted and needed and he would get it for them. He had enough money, and all the time in the world.

Realising he had been silent for too long, Sec cleared his throat, quickly searching for the right term of phrase.

'Christine, would you accompany me for a little while? There is something I wish to ask of you.'

It sounded wrong, awkward, and Christine expressed this with a pout of her lips. 'Look,' she began. 'I don't care how much money you offer, or how much I need the money, I'm not interested in doing that.'

It was Sec's turn to be taken aback. 'I'm not sure what you mean.'

Christine observed him. 'Why me?' she asked.

Such human naivety.

'You are young, honest, you are a woman, it is in your nature to care for others… you are kind. You can help me help you and everyone else in this Hooverville,' he explained.

'How in the heck are you going to do that?'

With relief, he answered. 'That's what I hope you can help me with.'

'I'll warn you, I'm not smart, I don't know how much use I'll be to you.'

Sec shook his head. 'You live here, that is all I need you to do.'

He held his hand out to her, hoping it was not too friendly, but judging by how quickly Christine took it, it was fine.

Deciding it would be best to take her to the theatre, Sec began to follow the path back towards the Empire State Building, following the route he knew best.

As they walked, Sec silently observed Christine, and she him. She saw the way he walked, or rather, marched. He observed how she always wore a soft smile. She risked a glance at his face, realising she hadn't been able to look him in the eyes since they first talked. Even now, looking at him made her feel a little dizzy. Like when she tried to look at something high up and her eyes wouldn't focus.

She was staring at him now, he noticed. A frown forming across her face.

Quickly thinking of something to say, Sec glanced over her clothing. A thin dress, filled with patches over the elbows and hips, with a tattered hem. She had coarse woollen gloves on her pale hands which swaddled them. A green coat sat several sizes too large on her shoulders. A pair or thread bare trousers and boots with the soles coming away.

'When was the last time you ate?' Sec asked her.

'This morning,' she replied.

'Properly?'

She sighed. 'A few months ago. Tommy and I rely on other peoples' charity for food. I look after him and the only work he could have got was building that stupid skyscraper.'

That was his fault. Sec hadn't even thought about those who were relying on the potential jobs the building work would give people.

'Come on,' he said, gently pulling Christine towards the food stand they were about to pass. It was Sec's usual stop, and the vendor smile at him, nodding towards his new friend.

'You're usual sir?' the vendor asked.

'And another for my friend,' Sec replied, not thinking before he spoke.

'You don't have to do that,' Christine told him quickly.

Shaking his head, Sec handed over some money to the man and took the food, handing one to Christine.

'Please, eat,' Sec told her. 'You are helping me so I shall help you.'

Thanking the vendor, they continued on their way, Sec leading Christian to the theatre.

'Why are we here?' Christine asked, staring up at the theatre doors and now tattered posters.

'I guess, I, live here,' Sec replied slowly.

He now was the named owner and manager of the theatre, he had the keys, and he would just have to find a way of making sure it stayed his for a good while.

Unlocking the front door, the pair of them slipped into the theatre and Sec led her to one of the offices on the first floor.

He found some paper and a pencil and sat at the desk, Christine placing herself in the chair opposite.

Holding the pencil was strange, writing was even more alien, but he knew how to write thanks to Diagoras's memories. It was still the first time he had been required to write though and it still took some time.

'Are you ok?' Christine asked, placing a hand next to his on the desk.

Sec looked at her, nearly telling her he had never held a pen before but stopping himself. As she had said earlier, it had only been a few weeks since the battle, if he told her, she would run and tell them who he was and what he had done and that he was responsible for the death – the murder – of their leader Solomon.

Instead, he nodded and then stared down at the paper in front of him.

'I want to know how I can help the people in Hooverville, not just by giving them jobs or money, something to really help them,' Sec explained.

'Well money would help,' Christine began. 'But things like clothing,' she continued, tugging at her dress hem.

Sec wrote down what she said and then stared up at her tentatively.

'Blankets for the babies. Last winter, three women woke up and found their new born babies frozen in their beds.'

Sec shifted uncomfortably but wrote down what she said.

'What about you Sec?' she asked, clicking her tongue on the last letter of his given name.

He glanced up at her. 'Pardon?'

'Do you have any children, a wife?'

'I… no. It's never been on my agenda,' Sec replied slowly. It wasn't a lie. It wasn't a process and as a hybrid, it still hadn't crossed his mind.

'Too into your business ventures?' Christine asked with a smile.

'Something like that,' he murmured.

'What exactly is your business, Sec?'

He was growing more uncomfortable with her questions. 'Why do you want to know? My business is wanting to help you and the people of Hooverville, that's all that matters.'

'I want to know you're not taking advantage of vulnerable people. You wouldn't understand the sense of community we have in Hooverville. When Tommy and I came here three years ago, we had nothing. When Hooverville was set up, we were welcomed so openly. They helped us, saved me and Tommy from starvation, clothes us, sheltered us.'

'And now, I want to make sure no one has to go through that again,' Sec told her, looking her straight in the eyes. It was a mistake. The perception filter was meant to detract attention away from him, from what was underneath the filter. Making Christine stare back at him and see him so close cancelled the effect, just for a moment, but it was enough to send a look of sheer terror into her eyes.

'Who – what are you?' Christine asked.

Internal conflict overtook Sec, the human part of him wanting to switch off the filter and show her. Maybe she would accept him. He was growing bored spending so much time alone. He had been talking to himself and walking around the laboratory in circles. The Dalek side of him wanted to protect himself, to destroy her. The urge to kill was strong. He has once commanded Dalek Jast to cease his attack, just after he had murdered that man Solomon.

'I… I'm,' Sec began, following his human instinct as Plan A. 'I'm not from around here, as you said. I'm not from this planet, this solar system even, I have done a lot of bad things and I wish to atone for them. A lot of those things involved the people of Hooverville.'

'You're one of them things that Frank and Laszlo and Tallulah were talking about, aren't you? Those metal robots. They said one of them made Laszlo how he is. And that they turned one of them into a human.'

The pig slave? He had survived?

'Laszlo… is alive?' Sec asked slowly.

Christine nodded. 'Barely.'

Sec bowed his head.

'He said a man called "the Doctor" saved him,' Christine continued.

'He was once me and my kinds' greatest enemy. But in the end, he was the one who saved us,' Sec said, staring down at the desk.

He was aware Christine was staring at him with pity, but when she put her hand atop his on the desk, he saw something else in her eyes, something he couldn't put a name to, an unknown emotion, but Sec had seen the Doctor's latest companion stare at the Time Lord with the same emotion in her eyes.

'Let's keep making that list,' Christine said softly, not prying anymore into Sec's agendas or background.

They carried on for a few hours, until it went dark outside and when it did and Christine had told Sec all she could think of and everything that was wrong with Hooverville, Sec walked her home.

'What will you do now?' Christine asked, stood outside her tent.

'I will work on getting you and everyone else here the things you have told me you need,' he explained.

'Will you come back and see me?'

Sec let out a sigh. 'I do not think it wise for me to return here too often if those who fought against me are here.'

'Could I come and visit you, at the theatre?'

'You would want to?'

Christine nodded and smiled at him. 'Your past is just that. You are something of a legend around here. I would like it if we could be friends.'

Sec remained silent. Friendship? These humans were so sentimental.

'And I could help you get anything into Hooverville, if you didn't want to keep coming back here I mean,' Christine pressed when Sec said nothing.

'It would be good,' Sec began. 'I mean, yes, let's be friends.'

Christine smiled wider than he had ever seen a human smile. 'Perfect,' she said. 'I'll meet you at the theatre at ten tomorrow.' With that, she went inside her tent.


End file.
